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The wind whistled past my bedroom window as the storm settled in for a stay. I could feel the fury of Mother Nature as she strove to take out her frustrations in an effort to cleanse her skin. There were days I wished I could storm about in my own personal fury, and as a woman, some would say it would even be natural. I however, strove to maintain my composure and always remain a lady.

As I lay in bed waiting for the days events to finish sorting themselves out in my head so I could drift off to sleep, the sounds of whipping leaves and pounding, slashing, wind driven rains kept me exhilarated and fascinated as lightening flashed creating strange images about the walls of my room with the shadows of every conceivable horrific nature. The chair by the window would leave a towering hulking monster upon my wall, leaning around the corner and peering at my upturned face with widely open eyes. The vase on the night stand appeared as a bloated barrel of a figure, as the strobe effect of the lightning imprinted these images in my mind. The moaning and creaking of the house as the winds rocked the structure upon its foundation. It was a glorious storm.

I heard the house go silent as the electricity went out and all those little noises you become used to as they purr and hum at the edge of your subconscious suddenly are silent. The soft whirr of the clock in the kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator, even the subtle buzz from the sump pump under the house was absent. It was a total silence of man ...

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